touched
him.

"You DID get out, then?" a soft voice said.

When he turned he felt his muscles stiffen. He ceased to slouch and
did not smile as he looked at the speaker. What he felt was a wave of
fierce and haughty anger. It swept over him before he had time to
control it.

A lovely person who seemed swathed in several shades of soft violet
drapery was smiling at him with long, lovely eyes.

It was the woman who had trapped him into No. 10 Brandon Terrace.

XXI

"HELP!"

Did it take you so long to find it? asked the Lovely Person with the
smile. "Of course I knew you would find it in the end. But we had to
give ourselves time. How long did it take?"

Marco removed himself from beneath the touch of her hand. It was
quietly done, but there was a disdain in his young face which made her
wince though she pretended to shrug her shoulders amusedly.

"You refuse to answer?" she laughed.

"I refuse."

At that very moment he saw at the curve of the corridor the Chancellor
and his daughter approaching slowly. The two young officers were
talking gaily to the girl. They were on their way back to their box.
Was he going to lose them? Was he?

The delicate hand was laid on his shoulder again, but this time he felt
that it grasped him firmly.

"Naughty boy!" the soft voice said. "I am going to take you home with
me. If you struggle I shall tell these people that you are my bad boy
who is here without permission. What will you answer? My escort is
coming down the staircase and will help me. Do you see?" And in fact
there appeared in the crowd at the head of the staircase the figure of
the man he remembered.

He did see. A dampness broke out on the palms of his hands. If she
did this bold thing, what could he say to those she told her lie to?
How could he bring proof or explain who he was--and what story dare he
tell? His protestations and struggles would merely amuse the
lookers-on, who would see in them only the impotent rage of an
insubordinate youngster.

There swept over him a wave of remembrance which brought back, as if he
were living through it again, the moment when he had stood in the
darkness of the wine cellar with his back against the door and heard
the man walk away and leave him alone. He felt again as he had done
then--but now he was in another land and far away from his father. He
could do nothing to help himself unless Something showed him a way.

He made no sound, and th